Twelve
ANGELO
W here the fuck is she?
Angelo was pacing in his office, hours after the ultrasound and seconds after his last call to Allison went unanswered.
“Pick up, Allison,” he groaned into the silence, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as he pressed the call button once more.
He had texted her first, his thoughts clouded from the moment they’d shared outside her doctor’s office and distracting him from his job.
Angelo regretted the way they had parted—their stiff, business-like exchange that felt so out of place given the gravity of the situation. So, he had decided to check on her, to test the waters and see how she was doing.
But his plan had backfired immensely as soon as her last text had come in.
I’m on a date, Angelo.
“Shit,” he cursed, still pacing, feeling an unwelcome knot tighten in his stomach. The thought of her on a date, especially after their conversation, ignited a surge of jealousy he couldn’t shake.
The green monster of jealousy loomed large in his mind, but that wasn’t the only reason the blonde woman occupied his thoughts. He was definitely envious of every man who could merely see and touch Allison whenever they wanted, unlike himself. But more than that, he was worried.
Allison was just over ten weeks pregnant, in the third month of her pregnancy, and she was going through it alone. The thought of her navigating this challenging time without him made his stomach twist. He couldn’t shake the concern that she might be struggling more than she let on, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel isolated.
Angelo ran a hand through his hair, frustration building.
I should be there for her , he thought, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. It wasn’t just about the baby; it was about being there for Allison, too.
But how could he be there for her if she didn’t even answer her damn phone?
He glanced at the screen again, as if the simple act of willing her to respond might magically make it happen. Each unanswered call felt like a dagger, amplifying his sense of helplessness.
What if something’s wrong?
The thought gnawed at him, twisting his gut in knots.
Angelo dropped into his chair, the weight of the day pressing down on him. He rubbed his temples, trying to clear the fog of frustration. He had been a fool to think he could just check in and everything would be fine. This wasn’t just a casual date; this was about their future—and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing his chance to be part of it.
Angelo took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He reminded himself that they had agreed she’d check in if she ever needed him, and it had only been a few hours since the appointment. He trusted that she would reach out if she needed anything.
If she isn’t too stubborn for that.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at the thought. From what he knew of Allison, she was definitely headstrong—his prideful girl.
No, no. Not mine.
“Yet,” whispered the little monster in his mind once more.
Seriously, why are you even talking?
The monster didn’t reply, of course. Angelo knew it wouldn’t. Just like he knew there was no monster—it was all his subconscious playing tricks on him because it was acutely aware of how much he wanted Allison for himself.
He leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow exhale.
Focus, Angelo.
He needed to keep his head clear. Whatever was happening between them, it was complicated enough without him spiraling into jealousy. The reality was that he was ready to step up, but first, he had to make sure Allison knew she could rely on him.
Angelo was back in his apartment two hours later.
Four hours without contact with Allison.
Insanity threatened to claim his mind.
He was pacing, drilling a hole in his hardwood floors as he waited for Allison to pick up her fucking phone .
Angelo’s mind was reeling with the possibilities of how their little date might be going.
What if they’re together now?
What if he’s stroking her skin and tangling his fingers in her hair?
What if she’s on her knees for him, looking up at the bastard like he’s her everything?
What if he’s taking her and she’s enjoying it, screaming his name?
Or worse, what if she isn’t enjoying it and he’s forcing himself on her?
Fucking pick up.
Angelo huffed and glanced at his phone once more before deciding to push her out of his mind. For now.
He was going to give her one hour. If she didn’t call or text him within that time frame, he would resort to calling his private investigator.
No, he hadn’t been kidding earlier. This was, without a doubt, the best hire he’d ever made—the most sought-after and highly paid investigator in the U.S., if not the entire world.
The guy knew everyone, and if there was anyone he hadn’t met, he surely knew their acquaintances. Once he started ‘hunting,’ as he liked to call it, he could dig up every single detail—from shoe size to family members and even the dirtier side of someone’s business. Angelo couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. If only finding love were as easy as tracking down a rogue shoe size.
If anyone could find Allison, it would be him; Talon Blackwood.
Scary name for a scary man.
Someone apparently took mercy on Angelo’s heart, because his phone pinged with a message from Allison.
Allison
You seriously need to calm down.
Angelo bristled. He had been worried sick—literally pulling his hair out—and now she was telling him to calm down?
Bad move, sweet girl.
In a flash, he located her contact and pressed the dial button. Allison picked up on the first ring.
“Calm down? Calm down? It’s been hours, Allison!” he shouted into the phone, his booming voice shattering the quiet of the night. “A simple ‘I’m fine’ would have sufficed. Instead, you left me with a text saying you were on a date and didn’t answer any of my calls!”
“I know, I was there,” she replied, her sarcastic tone only infuriating him further.
“This is not the time for jokes, Allison!” he shot back, pacing the room as adrenaline coursed through him. “I’ve been beside myself with worry, wondering whether you were being raped, hurt, or murdered by some psychopath! You can’t just disappear like that and expect me to sit here calmly!”
Allison sighed, and he could almost picture her rolling her eyes. “Angelo, I appreciate your concern, really, but I’m fine. I was just out with my friend, and my phone died. I thought you understood that I can have a life outside of work and our—whatever this is.”
“A life outside of work? Sure. But you can’t just leave me hanging! I was imagining worst-case scenarios while you were doing God knows what,” he retorted, feeling heat rise in his cheeks.
“God knows—Oh, please! If you must know, I was having coffee with my best friend,” she shot back. “We finally reconnected after a year of no communication. We weren’t plotting world domination or anything.”
At the mention of her friend, Allison’s voice grew softer, almost warmer, and some of Angelo’s ire melted away.
“Was it—did you have fun?” he asked, his tone shifting to something more tentative.
A pause followed his question, and anxiety coiled in his stomach as he waited for her reply.
Did I go too far? I probably did; it’s none of my business anyway. I already acted crazy and blew up on her.
“I had the best time,” she whispered, the words traveling straight to his heart—and, admittedly, a little further south.
Angelo rubbed his temples, reining in his frustration. “Okay, then. Coffee with your best friend. Just send me a text next time.”
“Next time, I’ll send a full report and a pie chart detailing my whereabouts,” she replied, the teasing lilt in her voice easing the tension that had built between them.
“Deal,” he said, unable to suppress a grin. “But if you leave me hanging again, I might just order my private investigator to track you down.”
“Okay, about that. You didn’t answer my question earlier. Why do you have a private investigator?” Allison’s voice was full of curiosity, and Angelo could picture her eyes shining with curiosity.
He laughed, an embarrassing snort coming out.
Both Angelo and Katerina inherited their mother’s laugh. Their features were split between their parents but the way they laughed had always been the same as their mother’s. It had sounded the same ever since he was a baby, just like Katia’s and exactly like their mother’s. Loud, deep and with cute little snorts.
It’s only cute when they do it, though. No man should snort like a pig.
“Come on, spill! I’m waiting over here,” Allison’s joking interrupted Angelo’s thoughts and launched a different turmoil in his mind.
How was Angelo supposed to explain to Allison that he had hired Talon Blackwood to dig up any dirt on her father’s—and, by extension, her—business? How could he justify his search for the immoral tactics Oliver Lockwood might have used to force this merger?
Sure, he had managed to put a stop to this idiotic move, but he still needed hard evidence on why it was happening. Something more substantial than just saying, “I don’t like him.”
Angelo racked his brain until a suitable excuse finally presented itself. He decided to stick to half-truths. “Not all businessmen are clean, Allison. Some have quite a bit of mud on their transactions, and my investigator is the best at uncovering that.”
She hummed thoughtfully, and Angelo felt his pants grow tighter at the sound. It traveled from the phone to his brain, making his blood rush south in seconds.
Angelo hurried on before she could dwell on his honestly insufficient reasoning. “Just… promise me you’ll keep me updated, okay? I don’t want to feel this way again,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
“Promise,” she assured him, and he could hear her smile through the phone.
God, I would give anything to see that smile right now.
“Good.” Angelo nodded to himself, heaving a breath as her reply registered. “Good,” he repeated subconsciously, his voice lower this time.
“Okay, now that the fire is out,” Allison started, humor evident in her voice, “I need to lie down for a while because I’m exhausted. Goodnight, Angelo.”
“Of course,” he nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “Goodnight.” Sleep well, my sweet girl , he didn’t say.
Angelo chuckled at his inner thoughts and threw his phone on the couch.
He finally felt a sense of calm wash over him after hours of tension. He let out a long sigh, his shoulders dropping lower with each exhale. A headache began to throb at his temples, prompting him to rub his eyes gently, trying to ease the pressure.
I need a shower. And sleep.
As he made his way to his ensuite bathroom, thoughts of Allison floated through his mind, lingering on the call they had just ended. After hours of wondering where she was, he’d finally heard her voice again. Her sweet, soft voice that he’d missed more than he realized. Relief had flooded through him when she explained her absence. But the worry now turned to something deeper—anxiety over the life they had created together.
Angelo turned on the water, steam quickly rising and filling the small space with warmth. He watched as the tiles glistened under the cascading droplets, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling in his mind. He stepped under the spray, letting the hot water wash over him, hoping it could rinse away his doubts and worries.
The truth loomed in his thoughts: they were expecting a baby. He’d known it for a while now, and it was still surreal. He thought of the excitement and fear in Allison’s voice when they first talked about it, how she had asked him to be there, to be present. And he wanted that, he just didn’t know how. He needed more than coffee runs and doctor appointments.
Angelo ran his fingers through his hair, letting the water stream down his face. He closed his eyes, envisioning the future. Would he be a good father? Could he support them both? The questions felt heavy, intensifying the steady thumping in his head.
After rinsing off the remnants of the day, he turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping himself in a towel. The cool air hit his skin, snapping him back to reality. He dried off, taking a moment to glance at himself in the mirror, searching for some clarity in his reflection.
He shook his head, chocolate curls falling down his forehead at the movement. This wasn’t the time for him to be having philosophical questions.
The phone call had been a small step forward, but he knew that he needed to take more. With a deep breath, he resolved to reach out to her again, to talk about his idea, to be present for both her and the child.
With that thought settling in his mind, he made his way to his bedroom, ready to embrace whatever sleep could offer him—if only for a moment. As he lay down in his cool black sheets, he tried to push aside the stress and uncertainty, allowing himself to drift into the hope of what tomorrow could bring.
Angelo was certain he was going insane.
It had been almost a week since his little meltdown over Allison’s short absence, and he spent his days at the office, fussing over every document that needed his signature and approval, while trying—and failing—to push Allison out of his mind.
He made sure to check on her and the baby every day, but that only meant every breath, every blink, every twitch of his muscles brought him back to her.
Though his thoughts had stopped racing with danger scenarios, it was still filled with swirling possibilities. The most prominent thought tugged at him: What if she needs help with something?
He knew, deep down, that Allison was fiercely independent, likely unaccustomed to asking for assistance. Yet, the desire to support her was strong, and he was determined to make his thoughts of that night true. He wanted to be present in a way that actually mattered.
As he read over a paragraph for the umpteenth time, his mind struggled to find a concrete way to be there for Allison. It kept getting caught on memories of their time together—how she said his name with that particular lilt, the soft snickers that escaped her lips, the warmth he could hear in her voice whenever she smiled.
Would asking her to move in with him be too much?
It definitely would be.
Angelo really only wanted her nearby, to know she was safe, to take care of her and their baby. A sense of responsibility weighed heavily on his heart. Despite the tumultuous relationship his parents had endured, they had instilled in him values he held dear. His father had taught him what it meant to be a true man: to respect and protect the woman by his side, to care for her deeply, and to nurture his children.
Angelo remembered the lessons his father had imparted, the way he’d always emphasized the importance of being there for family. His father had been an excellent example, steadfast and unwavering, always prioritizing his loved ones despite his flaws.
I can be that man , he thought, determination swelling within him. He envisioned Allison and their child in his life, a family he could protect and cherish. The thought brought a sense of clarity amid the uncertainty swirling in his mind.
But then doubts crept in. Would Allison see it that way? Would she understand that his desire to keep her close was rooted in protectiveness, not possessiveness? He didn’t want her to feel trapped; he wanted her to feel safe and valued.
If Angelo were honest with himself—and in this moment, he really wasn’t—he would acknowledge a deep, primal urge to stake a claim on Allison. Though he knew she wasn’t truly his, the fact that she was carrying his child ignited something feral within him.
He growled, a true animal, as he pushed the damn paperwork away.
There’s no way I’ll finish these at this rate.
Angelo’s dangerous thoughts were interrupted by the chime of a text. He huffed at his own ridiculous behavior, and checked his phone. In an instant, his breath caught, heart hammering inside his chest and all his blood rushing south as he noticed that one little word pop up on his screen.
Pinkie.
He took a minute to calm both his heart and his cock down, as he ran his company strategy in his mind.
Diversifying the company’s portfolio would mitigate risk and capture new market opportunities. This could involve identifying potential acquisitions or investments in emerging industries that align with the company’s long-term strategic goals.
After his very annoying erection went away, and his heart rate returned to normal, he unlocked his phone and tapped the notification.
Allison
Hi.
Sorry to bother you, but I need your help.
It’s an emergency.
His heart raced once more, but for an entirely different reason. This time, it wasn’t desire—it was fear.
He cursed himself for foolishly delaying opening the text. Now, as he stared at the screen, anxiety surged through him like a jolt of electricity. The words he read loomed in his mind, each syllable a potential threat.
What if there was something wrong with the baby? What if Allison was in pain? What if it was something he couldn’t handle? He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the pit in his stomach only deepened.
The message unfurled before him, and his heart sank further as he reread the terse lines. Panic threatened to overwhelm his thoughts, but he forced himself to focus. He couldn’t afford to let fear paralyze him.
Angelo Taylor was not a man who lost control; he didn’t like the feeling. He always thought everything through again and again before making any decisions, avoiding impulsivity like the plague.
But the mere thought that Allison could be in danger made him throw all that control out of the window.
He needed a plan, and he needed it fast, but first, he needed details. He had to know what was wrong.
With trembling fingers, Angelo called her and prayed she picked up.
Allison did so on the first tone. “Hi, Angelo.” Her voice was loud, but there was no sign of fear or pain. She didn’t sound happy, but not exactly in danger.
“You’re okay?” Angelo asked her, needing the reassurance as badly as he needed his next breath.
He heard a small wince, before she said, “Yeah, I guess my text was a bit misleading. I’m fine.” She sounded apologetic, but Angelo didn’t have it in him to be mad at her. He was just relieved.
This woman will be the death of me.
“Alright. Continue,” he said bluntly.
“Okay, I’ve been thinking about this for the past few days, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to tell my dad alone. Given his reaction when I told him I was pregnant, I can’t imagine how he’ll react when he finds out you’re the father. He might really lose it.”
Her voice was heavy with concern, each word laced with anxiety. He could almost envision her biting her full bottom lip, a nervous habit of hers he had located during their coffee run. Her jade green eyes would be darting around the room, reflecting her unease as she weighed her options. The way she must be fidgeting with her hair, twisting the strands between her fingers, only added to the intensity of the moment and made his cock come back to life.
Fuck, stay down. Now is not the time.
Angelo quickly shook his head and stood up, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the hazy Seattle skyline. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, the sprawling city below a stark contrast to the war brewing inside him. “We can tell him together if that would help, but honestly, I don’t see how it would turn out any better,” he offered.
The idea of facing her father filled him with unease, especially given their already tense history. The slimy man had always rubbed him the wrong way, and he could only imagine how that conversation would unfold. With every scenario he played out in his mind, the situation felt increasingly impossible.
“I know, which is why I thought of another plan,” she replied, prompting a smile to spread across his face. Of course you did, clever girl. “We could tell my brother John first and ask for his help. He’s my dad’s favorite, so that’s got to count for something.”
Angelo raised an eyebrow, surprised by the suggestion. “Wait, what? Are you serious?” The idea caught him off guard; he hadn’t considered involving her brothers at all. He knew they could turn out to be allies, but would that really help them? The thought of her eldest brother stepping in was both comforting and unsettling. “Do you really think that would make a difference?” he asked, trying to gauge her confidence in the plan.
“Nobody would react the way my father would. Besides, he already knows,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of hope. “Plus, John has one weakness, and that’s his sweet baby sister.”
Angelo couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “You’re right. He’d probably jump at the chance to help you out,” he admitted, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “But what if he doesn’t handle it well either?” he asked, concern creeping back in.
The thought of involving Johnathan had merit, but it also added another layer of complexity to the situation. Still, he could hear the determination in her voice. If she believed her brother could help, maybe it was worth a shot.
Allison did not disappoint. “He will. This is going to work,” she said resolutely and he felt his cock swell. Angelo grew exasperated at the phallic organ’s continuous presence at the most inopportune instances.
He sent a quick prayer to the Heavens to help him keep his mouth shut and the moan building in his throat hidden.
This is not the time for me to be thinking with the second head.
“Okay. Arrange a meeting with your brother and text me the details,” he grunted, his tone more abrupt than he intended.
Angelo knew he sounded rude, but her newfound confidence had thrown him off balance. Hearing his usually timid girl assert herself like that sent his mind racing, a mix of admiration and desire swirling within him. He couldn’t shake the image of her magnificent body on top of his, bouncing on his cock with a drive, losing herself in her pleasure.
His dick was rigid now, aching with need for friction as Allison responded with a simple, “Okay. Bye, now.”
Angelo couldn’t hang up fast enough.
He needed to deal with his dick, and he couldn’t do that with Allison on the phone.
“Yet,” said a wild part of him.
He sighed, a deep, troubled sound that stemmed from his need for the mother of his child.
Time to beat my dick into submission.
Christ.